


Dreaming of Fire

by quentinknockout



Series: Suits and Shipyards [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3981514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quentinknockout/pseuds/quentinknockout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been seeing each other a while, and Davos is desperate to take things further for the first time. Stannis is too, but he's not very good with these things. They find a way. Explicit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreaming of Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dubbledore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dubbledore/gifts), [Vana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vana/gifts).



Stannis didn’t know.

Davos realised this by their third date. Stannis didn’t know why waitresses smiled at him. He had no idea why people sometimes gave him a second glance, their eyes lingering on his bow lips and clear eyes. But because he gave strangers nothing, just merely stared back blankly, they soon looked away.  
Davos realised that perhaps Stannis had lived his whole life like this, stunningly unapproachable.

And now he didn’t realise the pain he was causing Davos, the pain of a crisp-collared shirt open at the neck, slender fingers fiddling with the label of a beer bottle.

And god, Davos hadn’t wanted someone this badly in years.

He’d had a couple of restless nights, unable to rest until he’d stroked himself off to the thought of Stannis’s warm mouth around his cock, imagining Stannis hot and breathless beneath him, hearing him cry out.

But Stannis had been a little reticent when it came to these sort of things. He was the first to pull away, the first to point out it was late and he had to work in the morning. And god, Davos didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable or pressured. So he would wait. And in the meantime try not to constantly think of burying his mouth into the side of Stannis’s neck as he made him moan.

–

Stannis didn’t usually daydream. But now he was, on his commute home from work.

He usually spent train rides frowning as he tried to read his newspaper on a crowded carriage. But god, he’d been thinking about Davos all afternoon.

They’d been seeing each other almost a full month. A few times a week, dinner at his, drinks after work, the movies. Stannis didn’t even like going to the movies, but he’d agreed just so he could sit beside Davos for two hours, hear him chuckle under his breath. So Stannis could accept another scratchy, whiskery kiss before they parted ways.

And he wanted more, Stannis had realised. But he was awful at it. Awkward and stupid and clumsy and never knowing what to do next. But he wanted Davos, and badly. He hadn’t been able to help himself, staring at Davos when he wasn’t looking, marking out the broadness of his chest, the sinew of his arms beneath the sleeves of his tshirt… Stannis couldn’t pretend he hadn’t imagined those big, rough hands on him.

With a start, Stannis realised he had almost missed his stop. He stumbled out onto the platform, still feeling the hot blush creeping up his face. He was turning down McCully St when his phone buzzed.

_What are you doing tonight? x_

Davos had an uncanny ability to text Stannis when he’d just been thinking of him. Or perhaps it was just that for the last few weeks, he’d been thinking about him a lot.

Not doing anything, he quickly replied. _Do you want to come over?_

The reply was instant. _Would love to. x_

–

Davos took a long shower, patted himself down with aftershave. He reminded himself not to expect anything. He was happy enough to spend time with this man he liked very much, maybe just talk a bit. He was content to look across the room and see how lovely Stannis was, the way his brow would furrow at the news, how he really smiled more with a glow in his eyes than he did with his mouth.

He chose a bottle of wine and made his way over.

Davos had been to Stannis’s once before, when they’d eaten Indian takeaway out of plastic containers, because Stannis maintained he could not cook. His house in McCully Street was hardfloored, neat and modern, lined wall to wall with books, plainly decorated save for the green room off the hall that was his daughter’s when she stayed.

Davos knocked on the door, and hearing Stannis call ‘it’s open’, he walked in.

But as he rounded the hallway to the kitchen it was like he was tackled.

Stannis hit him, a tornado, lips and teeth, slender hands tugging hold of his collar like a drowning man. Davos couldn’t see and had to put the bottle of wine down blindly, setting it on the bench as Stannis pulled him closer still, starving, and Davos was starving too, inhaling sharply, because Stannis smelled like office ink and fresh mint and the daffodils outside the front door. Stannis’s fingers travelled up, spidery, before his hands lay flat and splayed against Davos’s chest, before finally he jumped back like a man snapped from a trance.

‘What a welcome,’ Davos managed to say. Stannis looked away, almost embarrassed.

‘Sorry, I…’

‘There’s no need to be sorry. Unless that had been someone else at the door instead of me. Then you’d be in trouble.’ Davos felt the heat gathering in the base of his stomach, especially as he saw Stannis’s cheeks flush.

‘I just wanted…I need…’ Stannis stumbled.

‘No need to explain,’ Davos was trying to laugh it off, but he was almost out of breath, and Stannis’s top shirt button was invitingly undone, and his hair was messed, and… Fuck it…

Davos’s mouth was on Stannis’s again, hot and impatient, and he was unfixing those buttons now, and Stannis’s hands closed around his wrists, pulling him backwards towards the big tan couch. And Stannis was suddenly underneath him, and he’d torn off his shirt, and he was looking at Davos through the eyelashes of his half-lidded eyes, and Davos leaned down to put his mouth against the softness of Stannis’s neck, and with his knees either side of Stannis’s narrow hips he could feel the hardness there, and as he pressed his own crotch forward for the friction and traced his tongue along Stannis’s throat, he heard Stannis moan, hotly, and he felt Stannis’s warm hand reaching for the front of his jeans, unzipping, reaching inside, and Christ, it’d only take a few strokes, so he ripped at Stannis’s trousers to free his cock so he could take it in hand too, and for fuck’s sake, he kept his mouth against Stannis’s neck so he could feel Stannis whimper against him, and when Stannis’s pained cry echoed out that was when Davos came too, fast and warm, almost choking.

There was a breathlessness for a few minutes, no words, no thoughts, just the blankness of the afterglow. It was Stannis who broke the silence, muffled.

‘This is an expensive couch. We could have ruined it.’

Davos laughed, kissed him, and got up. They cleaned off the mess from themselves in kindly quiet.

‘Well,’ Stannis said finally, and he wasn’t looking at Davos anymore, and his words were clipped, ‘I’m sorry I was so impatient, and that was so…quick and I couldn’t – and that wasn’t- well-’

Davos put his hand to Stannis’s chin, looked him clearly in the eye. Softly, he pressed his lips to his, quietly, chastely.

‘Please don’t apologise again,’ he murmured. ‘It was wonderful. Just like I expected it would be. Wonderful, like you.’

Colour crept up Stannis’s cheeks, and he smiled again, more with his eyes.

‘Well, we can always try again.’

‘There will be plenty of time for that,’ Davos laughed. ‘But for now, I’m absolutely starving.’


End file.
